


I found you (At the bottom of a bottle)

by Fustercluck, shortstack (nimbleCustardlegs)



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: AU, Abuse, Abusive Bill, Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe, And names his dogs after Star Wars characters, Bill is an asshole, FTM Dipper, Ford is a nerd, Ford/Bill is past, Homeless Ford AU, Maybe - Freeform, Multi, Other, Stan won the shack in a poker game, This one might actually get finished, Trans Dipper, Trans Male Character, hes very good at poker, tw: abuse, whats new there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 11:52:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6517576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fustercluck/pseuds/Fustercluck, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimbleCustardlegs/pseuds/shortstack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stanford Pines lost the chance to go to college. He's been homeless ever since. </p>
<p>When he makes his way to Gravity Falls, he meets his long-lost twin, and they reconnect. </p>
<p>For the first time in a long time, he doesn't feel the need to look over his shoulder.</p>
<p>Until his saftey is threatened by an old 'friend.' Old memories and even older feelings are dragged into the light, leaving Ford hopeless. </p>
<p>Luckily, this time he's got his family to back him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I found you (At the bottom of a bottle)

**Author's Note:**

> Another fucking story amazing. This one is an AU where Filbrick kicked Ford out after he figured Ford wasn't going to make any money. 
> 
> Stan won the shack in a game of poker, Dipper is trans, Ford has a dog, and Bill is an abusive piece of shit. (What's new there?)

Ford sat with his back against the warm brick, eyes shut against the glare of the sun. His old dog lay curled up against his hip, snoozing in the warm glow. It was rare they found such a good spot and not get kicked from it immediately, and Ford planned to enjoy it for as long as he had.

“Hey, mister.” A woman had come from inside - but her voice wasn’t harsh, didn’t beckon him to leave. There was a smile on her lips, and a slice of pie in her hands. “I got you a little something for helping me out with that darned cake display.”

Ford cracked open one eye, squinting a little through the dirty lense of his glasses. His voice, while rough and cracked, was still gentle. “You don’t need to feed us for helping you.”

“I’d need to bring more to feed a man as big as you. And a dog as big as her.” She admitted with a crooked smile. “But I thought you might enjoy something special. A thank you.”

With dirty, slightly shaking hands, he reached towards her and took the food from her hands. “Thank you, Miss, um, Susan, wasn’t it?”

“Lazy Susan.” She grinned, nodding. “‘S because of the eye, you see.” She added, pointing at said half-lidded, lazy eye. “You can leave the plate by the door, if you want.”

“Lazy Susan.” He repeated, his lips curling into a tiny smile. “I will, thank you.” He murmured, gently elbowing the dog awake and tearing off a small chunk of pastry from the pie to offer her.

“Bon appetit, stranger.” Lazy Susan called as she headed back inside, chuckling as the German Shepherd rose to gently take to pie crust between her teeth and eat it.

Ford watched her go. After a moment, he carefully divided the pie into two and set one half on the ground for the dog. “What? It’s the best we have.” He protested when she glared up at him. “And I’m not letting you eat off of the plate.”

The dog whined, then laid back down and seemed to reluctantly start on her pie.

Ford did the same, ignoring the sound of soft conversation inside. He pressed his free hand lightly between her shoulders, digging his fingers into her wiry fur to ground himself.

The dog’s ears perked up at a muffled pounding against a window, above them.

“Look! There’s a dog!”

Ford flinched automatically, grip on her fur tightening, before he forced himself to relax. It was just a child. Nothing for him to be afraid of.

The dog rumbled softly when he tensed, leaning in to lick the last crumbs of pie from the corner of his mouth.

“You’re disgusting.” He murmured, but he smiled nonetheless, rubbing gently behind her ears.

That only seemed to encourage her, and the old shepherd lazily wagged her tail as she went on to slobber all over his face.

“Ugh, stop tha- augh, stop it, you insufferable canine!” Ford huffed, trying to at least pretend to be mad at her as he wiped dog saliva off of his glasses. “Now I can’t see.” He complained, gently pushing her face away.

The dog just tilted her head, remorseless as she was.

“Hmf.” He removed his glasses, wiping them on the hem of his shirt before replacing them again. It didn’t help, just smudged the dirt around until it was close enough to the edges that he could see enough.

Again, there was tapping on the window above them. “Doooooggyyyy…”

“Mabel, cut it out. We’re going.”

The voice makes him twitch suddenly, because the accent seems familiar, too familiar, but he doesn’t let anything more than the faintest amount of recognition stir in his chest because he’d left any hope of his brother coming to find him in Chicago thirty-something years ago. The thought hurts more than it should.

The dog laid down, head resting on her paws, but her ears pointed towards the sound of the diner’s door opening. A girl jumped down each step in turn, arms spread, followed by a boy in hat, and then a graying man, his suit unbuttoned.

Ford felt his breathing stutter to a near-stop, and for a second, all he can hear is the pounding of his own heart in his ears. That face- It was an exact image of what he saw in windows, what he caught a glimpse of in mirrors when he went into public bathrooms. There’s something heavy in his chest, something he can’t define. He’s not sure he wants to.

“Mabel, come on. You can’t pet every dog you see. What if it doesn’t like being pet?” the boy complained.

Quite suddenly, Ford felt anger rise in his throat like bile, and he quickly looked away, towards where he thought he could see a deer, hidden in the trees.

The girl sounded offended. “The dog can tell me itself, thank you very much!” and just like that she was off. “Sir! Sir, can I pet your dog?"

Ford looked towards her with a small noise of surprise, and, keeping one hand twisted in his sleeping bag and the other resting against the dog’s back, he cleared his throat. “I suppose if she’ll let you, I don’t see why not.”

She grinned, holding her hand out and, once it had been sniffed and licked, gently scratched behind the dog’s ear. “Thank you.” she hummed, studying his features with a slight frown.

“Good girl.” He mumbled to the dog, running his fingers lightly down her spine. He was slightly surprised - usually she never let anyone within half a mile of Ford get off without a growl at least, let alone allow a stranger to pet her. 

“What’s her name? I’m Mabel.”

“R2.” He mutters. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“What about yours?’

“Mine? It’s Andrew.” Ford lied through his teeth easily. One of many fake names he’d given, though ‘Andrew’ had always been his favourite. 

She smiled. “Nice to meet you both. Are you from around here? You look familiar.”

Ford turned away to cough into the crook of his elbow. “No, we recently arrived.”

“Mabel!” 

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “I should go see what my bro needs. Have a nice day!”

“Mm.” Ford hummed, sounding distracted, as he carefully inspected what appeared to be a tick on the side of R2’s heaving flank.

Mabel sprinted back over to Dipper - Grunkle Stan was already on his way back to the Shack. “Did you see that?”

“See what?” Dipper tipped his hat back, frowning at her.

“The homeless guy!”

“What about the homeless guy?”

“Look at him! Doesn’t he seem familiar?!” Mabel pressed.

Dipper glanced over at him. “Not really.”

She huffed, gripping his arm and forcing him to turn and really look. “The ears. His hair. The nose, Dipper, he looks just like Grunkle Stan!”

Dipper frowned deeply. “I guess he… He kinda does.”

“Do you know what that means?!”

“Stan has a brother?”

“Yes! Or a cousin or such, and he doesn’t even know he’s here!” Mabel gasped. “What if they’re twins, separated at birth, and neither of them even knows it?! We have to go tell him!”

“Woah, Mabel, I think you’re getting ahead of yourself. But I do think we should tell him.” Dipper rubbed his face. “Come on.”

“Just throwing it out there.” She shrugged, pulling him along, back towards the shack.

Dipper followed her, musing. “It’s pretty likely they’re at least brothers, judging by how much they look a like.”

“Why wouldn’t he tell us he has a brother, though?” Mabel frowned.

“Maybe they’re not on good terms? Maybe they fought a lot.” Dipper shrugged. “It’s not unusual. After all, no-one else in the family told us about him, either.”

“Maybe they didn’t know about him either! The split at birth theory holds up.” Mabel said firmly.

“Mabel, I doubt they were separated at bir- Grunkle Stan!”

The man huffed and turned. “What?”

Dipper nudged Mabel. “Tell him.”

“Why do I have to tell him?” Mabel huffed.

“Tell me what?” Stan demanded, scowling.

“Because you’re the one who noticed it.”

Mabel sighed deeply. “Fine. We think we found your brother!”

Stan made a movement as if to jerk away, before recovering himself. “My what now?”

“The guy with the dog by the diner! He looks just like you!” 

“That proves nothing!” Stan snapped.

Dipper frowned deeply at him. “But that would explain why you’re all defensive and weird right now.”

“What?!” Stan rolled his eyes. “You caught me off guard running around claiming my body double is hanging out by the diner. It’s just ridiculous!”

“Then come along and disprove it.” Mabel crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Stan groaned. “I don’t have time for all this.”

“If you’re so sure it’s not then come and prove it to us. Mabel’s not gonna give this up until she’s sure.”

Stan seemed to realise this too, and gave a resigned nod. “Let’s get on with it, then.”

Mabel grinned, taking his arm and beginning to rush him back to the diner.

Dipper followed at a more sedate pace, a smirk curving on his features. This was the most interesting thing to happen all summer.

Mabel breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that the man was still sitting in the same spot with his dog. “Sir! Mister homeless guy! Andrew!”

The man glanced up, eyebrows pulled into a deep frown to mask the shock he felt. Shock quickly turned to white-hot rage, which shifted into icy resentment. “Ah.”

Stan, who had before reluctantly moving along, froze in place, his eyes wide. “You… F-Ford? What are you doing here?” 

Mabel gasped, looking aside at Dipper. “I knew it!”

Ford swallowed, looking away. “I could ask you the same.”

“I live here. And why are you looking like that?” Stan demanded, though concern was clear in his voice.

“What were you expecting, after I lost the chance to go to college? I don’t exactly have any other talents.” 

Stan ducked in his head. “I… Don’t know. Not this, though. Come on. I live nearby. How long’s it been since you had a shower?”

A small frown crossed his face as he glanced down at the dog. “Three… Three and a half years, I think. Maybe more.”

Stan swallowed thickly and held out his hand. “Come on. Bring the dog.”

Ford stared at him for a second, and then used the wall to stand up properly. It took a few seconds for him to pack up his sleeping bag, and then he swung his backpack over his shoulder and, dog at his heel, looked at Stan expectantly.

Stan awkwardly lowered his hand, supposing he expected no better. “Right this way.”

Mabel fell into pace behind him. “So… Your name isn’t Andrew?”

“No… No, my name isn’t Andrew.” He towered above both Mabel and Dipper, and he had far more muscle than Stan. Perhaps more than he should.

“So you’re… Ford?” She asked with a slight frown. “I’m Mabel. And he’s my twin brother Dipper.”

Ford looked down at her, amused. “Nice to meet you.”

“Are you just brothers? Or twins as well?”

“We are- uh, we’re twins.” Ford shifted uncomfortably, pressing his fingers into his dog’s shoulders.

She gasped. “And were you-”

“Mabel, they knew each other’s names and stuff.” Dipper reminded.

Mabel groaned. “Not separated at birth, then. Thanks, bro.”

Ford looked up at the back of Stan’s head, frowning again.

Mabel, in turn, was looking up at Ford. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong.” He assured absently. Was it possible- Stan could have grandchildren? He supposed it could be, after all, they had been apart for some forty years now. 

“Well, you can say if something is.” Mabel assured him, cautiously reaching out to pet his dog. She was sure they could find her a pillow or something, and food.

Ford ran a hand through his rat's-nest hair, frown deepening.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, with Stan seeming to grow more and more tense the closer they came to the Shack. “Well,” he murmured finally when the cabin came into view. “This is it.”

“Hm.” Was all Ford said, grabbing R2 by her dirty collar when she made to chase a squirrel.

That didn’t seem to put Stan at ease at all. He led the way in through the shop, curtly greeting Wendy before pushing straight through the door saying ‘employees only’, into the house.

Ford seemed more curious than anything, glancing around with slightly narrowed eyes. R2 was also curious, sniffing at everything she could. More than once Ford had to pull her away from something.

“Shower’s upstairs.” Stan said. “Mabel, can you go along and grab him a towel? I’ll go see if we have any food left.”

Ford followed Mabel diligently, keeping a hand on R2’s collar just in case she decided she didn’t like Mabel after all.

“Down there’s the living room and the kitchen. Dipper and I have our rooms in the attic, Stan’s bedroom is on this floor, but… I’d advise against going in there.” Mabel babbled, only half joking. “Bathroom’s in here! Careful, the water runs really hot for a second, but after that it should be good. I think I could find some comfortable clothes in Grunkle Stan’s closet, if you like, we can wash those.”

“It’s alright.” Ford said sharply, unprepared to leave himself vulnerable in the presence of what were, to him, strangers.

“See you downstairs when you’re done!” Mabel said quickly, and then she was off.

Ford sighed and locked the door behind him, before glancing at R2. “You need a bath more than I do, huh, girl?” He smiled, turning on the shower after pulling the head off of the hook. “Come on, then.”

\-------------------------

Ford had dried himself and his dog off to the best of his ability, and now stood at the end of the hall - he could hear Stan’s voice. It would be too easy to just leave so that he wouldn’t have to deal with seeing his brother again. He sighed and took a few steps closer to the kitchen.

“And well, that’s why they don’t allow me into Texas anymore, or most supermarket chains.” Stan concluded with a sigh. “So, who’s up for another serving of mac and cheese?”

R2’s ears pricked forward and the mention of food, and even Ford twitched a little. They’d be unwelcome, he figured, and started to back up.

“Gotta leave some for Ford, though, he looked starved. Hey, don’t make that face at me! You ate almost an entire carton of Lucky Charms this morning.” Stan accused.

The theory that those two were Stan’s grandkids was getting more and more likely. Had they really been apart for that long? Long enough for Stan to have a child, and then for them to have children? Ford stood, frozen, for several moments.

“But the marshmallows are so good.” Mabel sighed, before she returned to her plate.

“Well, I’m not about to throw out perfectly good food just because the marshmallows are the only thing that tastes good. How long can showering take?” Stan complained. “Must be long out of hot water by now.”

Sure, by the time Ford had finished cleaning R2 up, the hot water had run out, but he’d showered in worse conditions. Even if the cold water had made his knees ache even more.

“I can go get him.” Mabel offered in between bites. “Seeing you without a shirt has already scarred me anyway.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Dipper piped up. “Maybe we should just wait for him to show up.”

Stan sighed. “If we do… Don’t be surprised if he turns out to have sneaked off. I don’t know what happened, but…”

Before Ford could stop her, R2 slunk around the corner and towards the table, tail wagging meekly.

Mabel gasped. “Artoo! C’mere, girl! Oh, you look so good! Let me get you a bowl of water, and we went and got some pellets, I’m sure you’ll like them.”

The tail wagging got more enthusiastic as the dog licked her hand. 

Mabel was up before Stan could say anything about it, grabbing two bowls normally reserved for chips or popcorn and filling them with water and an abundance of dog food.

The water was met with even faster wagging, which stopped the moment she sniffed over the dog food.

Stan snorted a small laugh. “I don’t think she’s a fan.”

“Nonsense! It says dogs love it on the bag!”

“She, uh, she doesn’t eat dog food.” Ford muttered, eyes flickering around the room, automatically logging the exit points.

“There you are.” Stan filled another dish with mac and cheese and put it at the table. “Drinks are in the fridge, what can I get the dog?”

Said dog promptly dropped the empty water bowl into Ford’s lap the second he sat down. 

“Come on, eat before it gets cold.” Stan urged, pushing Ford’s bowl a little closer.

At the nudge of a cold nose on his hand, Ford carefully scooped just over half of the contents of the bowl into the dog’s bowl and set it on the floor.

Stan rose an eyebrow. “Glad to know you value my cooking.”

Ford rose his own eyebrows. “She needs to eat too.”

“So do you. Good thing I had four packets left. There’s some more in the stove, if you want, when you finish that.” Stan sighed.

Ford barely paused to breathe as he started to eat, right arm wrapped around the bowl.

Stan looked vaguely worried, but he didn’t speak up about it as Ford set to cleaning out his bowl.

There was the soft noise of metal scraping on tile as the dog licked the last remnants of the meal and then looked up hopefully.

“Should I-” Stan offered, reaching out for the bowl.

A low-pitched, rumbling growl warned him off, but it didn’t come from the dog. Ford hardly seemed to notice.

“Okay.” Stan said quickly, though he very slowly pulled his hand back.

Once his bowl was clear, Ford fought back the urge to bolt, twisting his hands in the worn, patched fabric of his coat.

“Like I said, there’s still more.” Stan gently reminded him.

Ford shook his head and pushed away from the table. “I appreciate your hospitality, Stanley, but I really should be going.”

“Going? You just got here!” Stan frowned.

“Technically, I’ve been here for…” He checked his (stolen) watch. “Four hours and twenty-six minutes.”

“We haven’t seen each other in over thirty years.” Stan huffed, crossing his arms. “You’re telling me you want to just run off and… And keep living like this?!”

“I’m telling you that staying in one place for too long isn’t something I’m good at. What other choice do I have, here?” Ford said calmly, digging his fingers into his own knee.

“Stay somewhere! Get a job, build up a life!” Stan snapped.

“Even if that was an option, who, exactly, would employ someone like me?”

“You’re a genius! Since when has your big head needed someone telling it what to do?”

“I find things easy to understand. That doesn’t mean I suddenly know everything. I need material to study, which, if you hadn’t yet noticed, I don’t exactly happen to have in excess.” 

Stan sighed. “Then tell me what you need. I can get it for you, here or in the next town over, I don’t care. The people here are decent. Have a shave and finding a job shouldn’t be impossible. Even if it’s just in a garage or such, it’d be a start.”

Ford went tense. “You can’t do that.” He said quietly. 

“Do what?”

He waved an arm. “Get me stuff.”

“As much as I hate to say it, I can afford it. Despite everything dad always said, I managed to make something out of myself.” Stan sighed.

“No, you don’t-” Ford started. “I already- I already owe you.”

“I don’t care who owes who. Seems to me I’m the one who got you in this whole mess.” Stan said softly.

“I care.” Ford hissed, looking away and then back at Stan. “I can’t-”

“It’s only right if I just try to make this right.” Stan said firmly.

“You don’t have anything to make right.” 

“If it weren’t for me you’d have gone to that high end college! Don’t act like you don’t know what I did!”

“You said it yourself- That was an accident! Are you really still holding on to that?”

Stan fell silent at that for a moment. “I… I didn’t think I was. But I guess so.”

Ford raised his eyebrows. “I thought I was holding a grudge.”

“I guess it’s one thing we’re both good at.” Stan shrugged.

“You should let that go, Stan. I did, and I’m better for it in the long run.”

Stan snorted. “Shows.”

Ford glared at him, shifting in his seat. “I really should go.”

Stan sighed. “Well. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me.”

“What?!” Mabel gasped, breaking free from the hold Dipper had had on her. “You can’t just go!”

Ford looked at her, starting to stand. “Really, I appreciate the help.”

“But- but your dog loves it here, and-” Mabel started, looking up at him. “And I only just found out I have another grunkle, I don’t want you to leave already.”

Ford paused, glancing down at R2. She sat at his feet, as she usually did, but her tail was wagging slightly. He sighed, took off his glasses, cleaned them on his shirt, and put them back on. “I suppose I could stay for a while longer.”

Mabel gasped, running over and hugging him tightly. “Thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyooooouuuuuu!”

Ford jumped at the sudden contact, tensing. “Uh-” After a second, he awkwardly patted her back.

The pats seemed to make Mabel realise this might not be entirely warranted, and she pulled back, rubbing the back of her neck. “Sorry. I get a little overexcited sometimes.”

“That’s alright.” Ford assured, gently petting R2’s head to calm her. “Just some warning next time, okay?”

Mabel offered a small smile. “I will, thanks.”

Ford sat back down carefully, glancing over at Stan.

Stan shrugged, acting like it wasn’t a lot to him. “It’s true, she is pretty excitable.”

Ford nodded quietly, staring down at the table in thought.

“Well, in that case, we’re going to need some more groceries. And considering you do know what your dog eats, we’re taking you along.” Stan said firmly.

“You’re making me go to the grocery store because I know what R2 eats?”

“And you know what you eat, and there’s a section with clothes.” Stan nodded.

Ford sighed and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “Fine.”

“Shopping trip!” Mabel announced, grinning. “Let me go grab my bag-”

“Mabel-” Dipper yelped as she grabbed his arm, almost falling over. 

Once they were gone, Ford turned to look at Stan. “She’s like you.”

Stan huffed softly. “She’s a handful, I can’t remember ever having that much energy.” He said, shaking his head. And then, softer, “You’ll get along with Dipper, though. He’s just as much of a bookworm.”

Ford snorted softly. “Books aren’t really something I’ve had for a while.”

Stan waved his hand. “The general idea, too. He’s just as much of a nerd as you are - or… Well, as you used to be, at least.”

“Good thing you’ve got the brawn, then, huh?” He teased, leaning his head on his hand. “I can’t stay for very long, Stanley.”

“Ha, definitely.” he nodded, looking at Ford for a few moments. “Because of us, or because of something else?”

Ford stayed quiet, refusing to meet Stan’s eyes.

Once, Stan would have been able to see right through him, to press the right buttons needed for Ford to spill whatever was going on in that big brain of his. But it had been a long time. “I… I know I can’t keep you here. But if it’s the latter, keep in mind what I said. The door’s open.”

Ford swallowed, and when his spoke, his voice was hoarse. “Yeah. Thanks, Stan.”

Stan offered a small smile. “No problem, Poindexter.”

“I forgot you used to call me that.” He mumbled. “You and your stupid nicknames.”

Stan scoffed. “Stupid? That’s the first time I’ve heard that, you used to love it.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll humour you.” Ford snorted.

“You better, nerd, I’m the one getting you clean underwear.” Stan said, though his tone was light. “How long are those kids going to take?”

“Are they… Are they yours?” Ford asked hesitantly, eyebrows raised.

Stan froze for a moment before laughing. “They’re great and all - but thank fuck, no. They’re Suzie’s grandkids, their parents sent them over for the summer. I sure hope I never got anyone knocked up.”

Ford snorted, and then went still, frowning slightly. “I…”

“What?” Stan’s eyebrows pulled up. “Did you?”

“Maybe.” Ford rubbed at his face again. “Probably.” He sighed. “I’m also pretty sure I was married at one point.”

Stan laughed. “Pretty sure? For how long?”

“About six hours.” He admitted. 

“Ha, my marriage beats yours, then.”

“By how long?” Ford raised an eyebrow.

Stan shrugged. “Half a year?”

“You were married for six months and six hours?” Ford asked, sounding surprised.

“Roughly. I didn’t exactly keep track.” 

“Huh.” Ford scratched his cheek. “Gotta say, I wasn’t expecting that.”

Stan laughed. “Neither was I, that’s why it all went to hell.”

Ford snorted a laugh. “At least your wife didn’t set fire to the hotel room when she found out you were using a fake name.”

“How would you know, I’ve gone by plenty of fakes myself.” Stan countered, an easy grin curling his lips.

“I’m assuming here.” Ford smiled back. “I just figured it was a pretty uncommon thing.”

“Maybe for you.” Stan teased, standing up. “Jeez, how long can they - kids!”

There was a muffled thud, and then a soft “ouch” before Dipper emerged from around the corner, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Mabel was right behind, holding her elbow.

“Were you two listening in?” Stan demanded.

“Uh- No.” Dipper lied.

“Kind of.” Mabel muttered. “We were just curious.”

R2 rushed towards Mabel, tail almost a blur, and headbutted her hand.

Mabel immediately dropped to her knees to cuddle the dog.

Stan sighed. “Shall we go, then?”

Ford heaved himself to his feet, disguising his slight wince, and whistled sharply. The dog pulled away from Mabel to trot over to Ford. “Stay.” Was the firm command.

“Want me to give her some more water for while we’re gone?” Mabel offered.

“She’ll be fine.” Ford assured.

“Alright, rolling out!” Mabel announced, heading for the door to the shop.

Ford watched her, amused, and motioned for Stan to go first. 

Stan locked the house door behind them, then went ahead to check the cash register.

Ford’s fingers twitched in his pockets, but he restrained himself.

“Nobody’s gonna get in there.” Stan muttered as he hid the cash drawer under a loose plank. “Ready, Ford?”

“Mhm.” Ford moved towards the door, holding it open for Stan to go out before he did.

Stan tossed the keys up and caught them again, heading outside. “Are you sure your dog will be alright?”

“Yeah, she’ll be fine. She’s been by herself longer than this - she’ll probably just nap.”

“Good to know.” He hummed, closing the door after Ford.

Ford seemed to relax a little once he was out, eyes flickering to the tree line.

“You’re lucky, you get to ride shotgun.” Stan hummed as he headed for the car.

Ford followed. “Oh great, a first hand experience on how sh- awful your driving is.”

“You’re darned right to watch your language.” Stan huffed.

“Did you just tell me to watch my language?” Ford suppressed a laugh. 

“I had a twenty minute lecture about being ‘child appropriate’, might as well pass on some of the sentiment.” Stan grumbled.

“Pff.” Ford climbed into the car after Stan. “Still got this old rust bucket?”

“As much as I hate to say it, our old man had a good taste in cars.”

“Mm.” Ford agreed faintly. “I would’ve thought you’d have crashed it by now.”

Stan chuckled as he got behind the wheel. “So did I. If only out of spite.”

“Why out of spite?” Mabel chimed in. “Did you not get along with him?”

“Our father… Wasn’t a good person.” Ford told her gently.

“We can’t actually say what he was because your mom will kill us, but that gets close, yeah.” Stan agreed, nodding.

Ford snorted. “Close enough.”

“That’s a shame.” Mabel shrugged.

Ford glanced out the window, frowning a little as he did so.

“Did you pass through town on your way to the diner?” Mabel wondered out loud, still watching Ford.

“No, I didn’t… It seems nice.” He commented.

“It is a pretty nice town.” Mabel agreed. “There’s not really any big chains though, just small shops.”

“And the Mall.” Dipper chimed in, adjusting his hat.

Mabel grinned. “And the mall, yeah.”

Ford shifting in his seat, unsure what do with his hands without R2 to pet and reassure.

“I swear, he was begging me to drive him there every sunday so he could ‘hang’.” Stan muttered to Ford.

Ford snorted, amused. “So he could ‘hang’?”

“Hang out with Wendy’s friends.” he explained. “She works in the shop.”

“Ah.”

“It’s not- They’re cool!” Dipper protested weakly.

“They’re hooligans.” Stan complained.

“Hooligans.” Ford deadpanned. 

“Makin’ noise and wrecking stuff, yeah!”

“You got ‘detained for your own and others’ safety’ by the police when we were nineteen, Stanley.”

He rolled his eyes. “That was a lifetime ago, Stanford.”

“I’m sure that’s not the last time you got involved with the police.” Ford pointed out.

“Me?” Stan scoffed. “I’m as innocent as a lamb that has committed several felonies.”

Ford snorted and didn’t respond as the car pulled into the parking lot.

“A lamb with brass knuckles under his pillow.” Mabel commented as she hopped out of the car.

Ford chuckled as he slid out as well, automatically glancing over his shoulder.

Stan locked the car once Dipper was out as well. “So, uh, there shouldn’t be a lot of people, but if you freak out or anything-”

“I’ll be fine, Stan.” Ford assured. “Trust me.”

“Fine, just remember where the car’s parked.” he huffed.

Dipper was already halfway across the lot, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

Mabel jogged up to him. “Are you going to get anything, bro bro?”

“Maybe some Sour Patch Kids or something.” Dipper shrugged. “What about you?”

“Maybe a nail polish.” Mabel suddenly gasped. “Do you think they have dog nail polish?”

“Even if they did, I doubt the dog would let you paint her nails.” Dipper snorted.

“I’m more worried about Ford letting me than Artoo.” Mabel hummed.

Dipper glanced back to where Stan and Ford were engaged in a conversation. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“You know how some people mind pink dog manicures.” She shrugged.

“I’ll let you paint my nails if you really want.” Dipper muttered quietly.

“I think I’ll save it for the next sleepover.” Mabel teased. “What’s got you down, huh?”

Dipper sighed and brushed a stray hair away from his face. “Just… I dunno, it’s dumb.”

“Is it the thing about Wendy? Because we didn’t mean anything with that.” Mabel said firmly.

“No! It’s not that.” Dipper protested. “Well, maybe a little. I mean- I keep feeling like I’ll never, y’know, be a real boy.”

Mabel frowned, lowering her voice. “Do you think it’s not going to work?”

Dipper sighed, looking down. “I dunno.”

Mabel offered a hesitant smile. “Well, you’re smaller now, remember?”

“Heh… Yeah. Thanks, Mabel.” Dipper smiled back, thankful, and then shivered as a gust of cold air blew at him when they walked through the doors.

“Just try not to rub it in my face much more than I’m rubbing it in yours when sweet, sweet testosterone shoots you through the roof.” Mabel said, grinning.

Dipper laughed. “One of us will finally be able to reach the top shelves.”

“I’ll just climb on your back.” Mabel assured.

Dipper huffed. “Like you don’t do that already.”

“I’ll climb on it even more, you nerd.” Mabel laughed, elbowing his side.

Dipper shoved her away gently. “Come on, let's go see if they have any nail polish.”

“Think we can leave the old men alone?” 

“If we hurry. C’mon.” Dipper grabbed her arm and pulled her quickly down the nearest aisle and out of sight.

Mabel laughed as they went, though she tried to keep it down.

“So,” Stan muttered to himself. “Dinner. How do you feel about microwave meals?”

“Last time I had a microwave I ended up bringing the lasagna to life. So, as long as that doesn’t happen, I’m fine with them.” Ford shrugged.

“Well, the meat’s dubious enough, but nothing like a fresh kill, right?” Stan shrugged.

“You’re wei- Oh, man! Sorry, ma’am, let me help you with that-” He’d knocked an armful of bags out of some woman’s hands. “So sorry, totally my fault.”

Stan frowned as he watched Ford pick her bags back up and hand them over. “What the hell was that?” he hissed when the man fell into pace next to him again.

“Helping someone out. I did knock her over, after all.” Ford said off handedly, tucking the wallet from his sleeve into his pocket.

“Bull. You saw her coming from a mile away.”

Ford shrugged. “I’m a clumsy guy.”

Stan narrowed his eyes. “Sure you are, sixer.”

Ford froze in place, heart stopping as his eyes caught on something nearby. It’s a table, a simple, fold-out one, with a bunch of business cards on it. They were all pretty unnoticeable, but one caught his gaze. That awful eye. The color burnt into his eyes, a bright, horrible yellow he thought he’d forgotten. Along the bottom, in golden letters, the words ‘BILL CIPHER’ in a blocky font demanded attention. Ford felt bile rise in his throat. 

“Ford? Ford, Christ, I swear you’re just the same, can’t listen for one damned-”

Ford barely registered the words as he walked past the table, and slid a small, yellow-black business card into his pocket, alongside the wallet and an identical card, though the corners were folded and the color was far more faded.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a kudos and commeny if you think it was worthy! 
> 
> -Nerd-Squared.


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